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Forward (short Jack fic, gen. PG)

 
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Jackaroo
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Joined: 13 Feb 2006
Posts: 30

PostPosted: Sat Sep 16, 2006 9:28 pm    Post subject: Forward (short Jack fic, gen. PG) Reply with quote

Title Forward (see Warnings)
Genre General
Rating PG
Summary Jack wakes up disorientedly.
Warnings 1 I’m terrible with titles. 2 Vague-ity ahead.
Notes These are four successive scenes. There’s a whole background story to it, buttehm… that’s sort of stored in my head and not coming out right now. Maybe someday – probably not.
Feedback very welcome (including angry “WTF!”s)

Forward


When Jack woke up, he had trouble getting his eyes to focus. It took him several minutes to actually get it right, and in those minutes he also became aware of the dryness of his throat which was impossible to swallow away; of the nearly artificial silence in the air; of his nakedness underneath the cool sheets.

He didn’t remember this place, didn’t remember going to bed – nothing. Maybe he’d been hit on the head, but no – no bandage, no headache. Only a vague nausea, dizziness.

“Good morning,” someone said.

Jack wondered if the man he saw sitting at his bedside now had been there this whole time. How could he have overseen him?

But how could he have overheard him coming in?

“How are you feeling?”

As memories started seeping in and Jack arranged them to make sense, he didn’t answer.

“Can you tell me your name?” the man asked patiently.

Things’d fallen into place.

“Fuck you,” Jack muttered before he closed his eyes and turned his head away.


* Forward *


He woke up completely disoriented. Kinda nauseous, and with a helluva headache. Swallowing in a dry throat, he discovered the man sitting at his bedside. Vaguely familiar – where’d he know him from again?

“Nice to see you waking up” the man said in a friendly voice.

Jack nodded vaguely as he eyed the room, which did not look familiar at all. When, after a couple of minutes, the man spoke again, Jack felt he’d been this close to figuring out how he’d gotten here, but the voice interrupted his thoughts and he didn’t quite get it.

“Can you tell me who you are?”

He might not remember what had happened, exactly, but he had figured out the man wasn’t exactly a friend.

“I’m sure you’ve read all the files.”


* Forward *


Why was the light so bright? How could anyone not have the sense to pull down the blinds, or something?

Closing his eyes again, he realized the millisecond they’d been open had been long enough to get his stomach rolling around inside of him and he groaned.

“I’m sorry about that,” he heard a man’s voice, followed by a couple of footsteps and what heard like the rolling down and closing of the blinds. He dared open his eyes again very slowly when his stomach’d settled down, and the nausea was less enough to be able to keep them open – mere slits, but still.

The man sat down again.

Who was the guy? And where was he?

He managed to swallow and asked more or less out loud,

“What’s happened?”

The man shushed him,

“Later. Now – how are you feeling?”

“What do you think?” he growled in answer; not really regretting his rudeness when he realized it. The man smiled and somehow looked familiar, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t figure out where he knew him from.

He racketed his brain as to how he got here – wherever that may be – while the man performed some superficial examination. Growing impatient and uncomfortable for not having a clue as to what was going on, he cut it short by being nearly-rude again;

“Are you going to tell me what’s happened or not?”

The man sat down again and nodded.

“Can you tell me your name?”

He grew way beyond uncomfortable when he realized he couldn’t.


* Forward *


He slowly opened his eyes, sighing, and didn’t recognize anything he saw. The man at his bedside nor his voice appeared familiar to him, so he just cracked out a dry “Hi” in response to the

“Welcome back, Kyle.”


* Forward *
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